Obake Itoko Chapter 15: Hello My Old Heart, a big hero 6 fanfic

Chapter 15, everybody, and the one-year anniversary of this fic! Cool that it's again on a Friday two years in a row, less cool that it took me a year to do fifteen chapters. I used to be better about this what happened!?

In other news, I'm thinking we're in reaching distance of the end of this fic so…good things. ;v;/ And emotions are still hard why did I get into this fandom it makes me feel things I don't like having wet coming out of my eyes while I'm writing WHY. ;O;/

And Obake's hiding out in his banged-up abandoned restaurant from canon but I couldn't resist the added reference. :)

The Authverlord, thanks for the review! Me too I always get a kick out of including stuff from the movie in this fic (maybe not that one so much but…). No problem! And that is interesting…that's actually a really cool idea it doesn't fit in this fic but like, that with a dash of The Iron Giant and I can see what his monster-form would look like and…dangit. *adds another to the WIP pile*

The lock went with a little bit of force, Obake ignoring the condemned and keep out signs. The restaurant this place used to be had long ago fallen into disuse, after the original owner died and the health inspector found rats. By the time Obake was old enough to start puzzling out quadratics, the restaurant had closed, unable to stay afloat after those two hits. By the time Obake was living on his own, the place had fallen into disrepair. A perfect place for a ghost to hide.

Except….

No. Shake his head, angle for upstairs, skipping the one step that termites had gotten to. It didn't matter now. He was used to living on his own.

Except now you know differently—you know that being around people isn't as much of a chore as you originally thought.

Yes they were—people were pain, pure and simple. They were to be used and then discarded. They didn't have any further purpose than that. The Hamadas had outlived their usefulness, so he had moved on.

So why did he feel guilty?

You were going to help.

That look—that look on Hiro's face, fresh in his mind's eye every time he blinked—that look that should not have been as problematic as it was…there was no reason for that to have affected him.

You're afraid. What if it wasn't Yokai? What if it was you?

So what if it was? It was a minor setback—he could try again—

What if you killed the brother?

He. Didn't. Care. He was Obake—he was the ghost that haunted this city, ever since he learned that taking what he wanted got him farther in life than waiting around for it to be handed to him.

And he didn't want the cutesy family thing—didn't want it, didn't need it—scowled as he picked through the lockbox he had stored up here. It was a fine diversion, but it was time to stop playing around.

You wanted that—you wanted it but you know you don't deserve it.

He didn't—he didn't want any of that. And forget deserve—he took what he wanted, hang the consequences, discarded what he didn't. Waiting around for what he deserved was something only nine-to-fivers did.

He'd grow old waiting for someone to give anything to him.

She leaped to his mind, unbidden—but that didn't count, he had earned that spot at SFIT, that had been something he had taken. The attention, the lessons, the free reign? All things he had earned, had taken for himself, had enjoyed using to the fullest and spiting the man that eyed him with concern.

The man he might have possibly killed along with the brother—

Slam the lockbox shut, growling—

And then the Hamadas! That had been something he had taken as well—ran out everyone else in the room he had been ushered into, hating having to deal with children, especially snotty-nosed brats still starry-eyed thinking some perfect family would come swooping in to save the day. Had been busy hacking into the agency's documents, into State and Federal to erase himself from the system, figuring he might as well go all the way and make himself a true ghost—

Had been interrupted by Hiro.

The plan had been simple, then—get adopted by this little family, play nice, and then slip away when able.

And now here he was, having acted on that. All he needed to do now was finish what he started and erase himself from the system so he didn't have to deal with cops hunting him down and trying to haul him back because they thought he couldn't take care of himself.

So what was he doing, standing here in the middle of the room, flexing his hands and glaring at nothing?

You were going to help.

No. No he did not care this was none of his business he was not—he wasn't—Hiro didn't need him—

Yes, I do.

He didn't care—he didn't….

He did. He did because he thought he could fix things, because he had been enjoying himself and knew he was getting comfortable, knew that was a bad thing….

Knew that he was starting to want to stay there, and that doing so meant he had to work at it. Had to work at earning it….

Had to work at deserving it.

Clench his fists, trying to will himself to stay—if he went back…if he went back that meant working to stay in a cutesy little home with a cutesy little family. That went against everything he stood for.

…Except it wasn't a cutesy little home with a cutesy little family—they were broken, shattered, and…and he had just made it worse. Would make it worse, if he stayed away.

Please, don't do this to my aunt Cass. More like please don't do this to me.

You've done a lot for us, really.

You were going to help.

Clench his fists so hard he thought he'd draw blood—no—no, he was vicious, cunning, conniving—he had no business being there—they didn't need him—

Yes, I do.

I'm glad you're here.

You were going to help.

Deep inhale—

Skip the step the termites had gotten to, tear out into the night.

He had someplace he needed to be.

Callaghan.

It had been Callaghan.

It had been Callaghan this whole time—

Hiro was fuming as he ripped his helmet off, flung it away—grabbed a stepstool and shoved it in front of Baymax, tugging his helmet off to recalibrate it—Callaghan this whole time—this whole time—

Callaghan who had stolen his microbots.

Callaghan who had attacked them multiple times.

Callaghan who had—

"Hiro," Baymax said as Hiro growled and flung the screwdriver away. "You are distressed—"

"I'm fine," he spat, shoving the helmet back onto Baymax. "Is your scanner working again?"

Baymax tested it. "My: scanner, is fully functional."

"Good," Hiro said, jabbing a finger against Baymax's chip bay—they were finishing this, they were finishing this right now—

He wanted nothing getting in the way of this.

Hiro stared, still thrown, still shocked, insides freezing at the revelation—

"But—but Tadashi—h-he tried to save you!"

"That was HIS mistake!"

Blank—head buzzing, ears ringing—

"Baymax: destroy."

And they were going to do that too—just as soon as he could get rid of—

"Baymax, open your chip bay," he ordered.

Baymax did not. "Will you be removing Tadashi's chip?"

"Yes. Now open it."

"My healthcare protocols prevent me from harming people."

"I know, Baymax."

"Will killing Professor Callaghan improve your mood?"

"Yes—no—I don't know—"

"Is this what Tadashi would want—"

"It doesn't matter—"

"Tadashi wouldn't—"

"Tadashi's GONE!"

It ripped clean out of him, shredding him inside and out—the blow he had been dreading, that he had been trying to prevent—

The moment when he, Hiro Hamada, acknowledged that Tadashi—his big brother, his safety net, his constant—was no longer here. Was gone and never coming back.

He was sobbing now, hunched against Baymax's exposed vinyl, beating weakly with a fist. "T-Tadashi's…h-he's gone…he's gone and-and he's…he's never coming back."

He couldn't stop it, couldn't stop any of it—not the words, not the tears—not his very essence, draining out of him and leaving him an empty husk. His world had always had Tadashi as a constant, and now, without him….

"Tadashi is: here."

Cough. "H-he's…he's not, Baymax."

"Tadashi is: here."

Shake his head—couldn't, wouldn't argue with a robot—

"Hey, my name is Tadashi Hamada and this is the first test of my robotics project!"

Freeze—cold rippling through him at hearing a voice he swore he'd never hear again—

Blink at Baymax's chest, where a video of Tadashi in his lab was rolling.

Baymax proceeded to play several videos, going through…an alarming number of Tadashi's test attempts—Hiro couldn't help but cough on a laugh at a few of them—

"I'm not giving up on you," Tadashi said in one—where he had blown the power to the lab and was trying to fix things with a flashlight. "You don't know this yet, but you're going to help a lot of people."

And then the one where Tadashi actually succeeded—Hiro couldn't help the sad smile, the fresh tears at the sight of Tadashi bouncing around his lab, ecstatic that he had finally done it—

"My brother is going to love you."

He was going to cry again—scrub at his eyes as the video reached its end, freezing on Tadashi's happy face—reach out, touch him, or at least his image, fingers brushing against warm vinyl….

Tadashi had wanted to help people—lots of people—his first thought when he succeeded had been what Hiro thought of Baymax—

"Th-thanks, Baymax," he said finally, resting his head against Baymax's chest, fresh tears rolling, unable to look the healthcare robot in the eye. "I'm—I'm so sorry—"

Baymax hugged him. "You reacted to a shock with anger; it is not recommended, but it is normal."

Normal—no, no it wasn't normal he had—

He had taken his brother's project and turned him into its antithesis—he had looked at another human being and wanted him dead. No, not dead—destroyed. He had wanted nothing left of the man who had done that to Tadashi—to him—to everyone.

"Bottling up your feelings does not assist with your emotional recovery," Baymax continued. "Connecting with: friends, and loved ones, is an integral part of the healing process."

Yeah…yeah he had been…a little guilty of that. But…he didn't want to address that gaping hole in his life—didn't want to acknowledge it, thought that if he could build a wall between himself and that he could….

Except he couldn't. His life was now freshly defined into two parts: before Tadashi's death, and after. He didn't want to address the reality of living in the latter, but….

But it was a reality he was going to have to live with.

"Obake."

Hiro sighed at that fresh cut. "He's…he's gone too, Baymax."

"Obake: is here."

Hiro half-expected to hear Obake's raspy voice coming out of Baymax's chest next—looked up at the sound of scuffing feet, a ginger rap on the doorjamb—

Blinked in surprise at Obake standing there, looking sheepish, apologetic…like he wasn't sure of his welcome.

"Wha..what are you doing here?" Hiro asked.

Obake opened his mouth, inhaled—looked away with a sighing huff, like he thought that anything he said wouldn't be welcome.

"Communication and forgiveness are key aspects of the emotional healing process," Baymax offered, a hand up. Obake clenched his hands a few times in response, head lower…seemed to come to a conclusion, started to turn—

"It was Callaghan."

Obake stopped, looked at him, stunned—

It occurred to Hiro that that information had just tripped out of him—wasn't sure why he blurted that out of all things, but….

"It was Callaghan," he repeated, all of it tumbling out now that that first thing had blundered out. "Callaghan started the fire. H-he stole my microbots, he…." Shallow breaths, trying to suck in enough to say something, anything else, anything but that next statement that was going to choke him, tears starting—

Blinked when he realized Obake had his hand, was looking up at him with concern—

Stepped off the stepstool to be wrapped in a hug—first by Obake, then by Baymax hugging them both.

"There, there," Baymax said. "It is all right."

No it wasn't—not really. His brother was still dead, murdered by his favorite teacher in pursuit of Hiro's microbots. And for what reason, he didn't know, couldn't comprehend….

But…maybe he wasn't facing things alone.

"I'm glad you're back," he managed to choke out—pull himself free, wipe at his face again—

"Hiro?"

Obake spun around, trying to block Hiro from view—Hiro nudged him aside, stepped up to face the team. Tadashi's friends.

The people he had let down.

"I-I'm—I'm sorry, guys," he said, flopping one arm helplessly, unsure where to go from there—

Was surprised when Gogo hugged him.

"We forgive you," she said softly, letting go and ducking down to his level, one hand still on his shoulder. "And we're going to get Callaghan—the right way this time."

Hiro couldn't help the small smile, the tiny stirrings in his heart—

"Yeah, just—next time don't leave your team stranded on a spooky island?" Wasabi suggested, a hand up. Hiro blinked—

Oh you IDIOT.

"I am so sorry—" Hiro started—

"Nah, it's cool," Fred offered. "I called Heathcliff and he picked us up in the family chopper. But while we're all having the heart-to-heart—you," he said, pointing at Obake. "You not coming with us totally put a cramp in the first landing as a team thing shame on you."

Obake looked at Hiro, confused—

Hiro gave him a small smile—he hadn't told the team because…well, he had been hurting, but…maybe they'd be allowed to skip over this whole horrible day.

"There was something else," Honey Lemon said, pulling out a flash drive. "While…um, while we were waiting for Heathcliff, we took a second look at the feed, and…."

Obake watched with the rest of them as the security footage from Silent Sparrow showed Callaghan launching himself at Krei, spewing vitriol as at least three men held him back.

"Dude," Fred noised.

"I don't understand though," Honey Lemon said. "We know Callaghan was there, but why…."

"Let's find out," Hiro said, rewinding the footage—

Stopping and blinking at the sight of Callaghan hugging the pilot before she climbed into the pod—

Freezing the shot at a specific angle, blowing up a section of the image—

Callaghan.

"T-the missing pilot—she's Callaghan's daughter!" Hiro gasped.

Fred sucked in a breath. "This is a revenge story! Ooh those are—"

What they were, they didn't get to hear, since Gogo slapped Fred upside the head.

"So where is he going to go next?" Gogo asked. "I'm guessing he'll target Krei somewhere—"

"Better question," Wasabi said. "What are we going to do how are we going to counter him that first time was…I don't want to say disaster but—"

Their commentary was fading into background noise though, buzzing in his ears, through his bones, making him feel lighter—it was Callaghan. His own work was sound. He hadn't caused that explosion.

It wasn't his fault. He could—

He was going to help.

Tap Hiro on the shoulder, startle him out of staring at the screen—grab the nearest notepad and start scribbling as Hiro asked "What?"

Slide the notepad over.

Now we do it my way.

Underneath that he had sketched his logo with an arrow pointing at a rendering of a microbot.

He could see two and two coming together for Hiro, fetched something to put on the table next to the computer—

Look at the helmet, up to Obake….

Started smiling.

"Let's do it."